


It's not just teenage lust

by Kavi Leighanna (kleighanna)



Series: beauty, grace, punches in the face [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 3+1, F/M, tumblr prompt fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:17:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4448951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kleighanna/pseuds/Kavi%20Leighanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The three people who think Maria's just sleeping with Steve and the one person who knows better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's not just teenage lust

**1\. Best Friends**

It surprises her literally not at all the Sam Wilson is the first one to come to her about it. The man his historically and incredibly observant – she’s got a theory about being wholly human and often a strange sort of ‘forgotten’ within the team that leaves people both telling him everything and conveying more than they should around him – and it’s not like she and Steve are actively a secret.

She’s putting lunch together in the common area when he catches her alone.

“So. You and Steve.”

A million emotions race through her, a thrill and a healthy sense of trepidation. It always works that way, the swoop of her stomach when she thinks about what she and Steve are doing, what she and Steve are. Still, it feels strange to talk about, habit more so than any sort of shame or embarrassment. Her private life is just that: private, so she merely arches an eyebrow Sam’s way.

“Not, uh, something people saw coming.”

Well. That stings. She knows better than to show it but she has to admit it does. Just a little. She knows it’s not Steve he’s talking about, it’s never Steve they’re talking about when it comes to this. She’s heard all four of the “new” Avengers talking about Steve’s adorable inability to get a woman – which, she would like to point out from experience, is a giant and complete _lie_ – on more than one occasion.

“What’s your point, Wilson?”

Sam puffs out a sigh that Maria will argue does not make her nervous. It does though, in so many ways, because while she’s never mentioned it to Steve she has so many fears about the team finding out, what they’ll say, the conclusions they’ll draw.

“Go easy on him, huh?”

She takes a moment, allows herself that because she knows Wilson may be the one person who still can’t tell when she’s exasperated, when she’s hurt, when she’s anything but calm. “What makes you think I’m the risk.”

“You’re a good leader,” he says, “But that’s kind of your life. I’m glad Cap’s getting laid, God knows he needs it, but don’t drag him along behind you when he gets attached.”

She tilts her head to the side, fights to keep her face impassive because what she feels for Steve goes way beyond dragging him along. They walk together in this and she doesn’t need words to know it. “You’re so sure I won’t get attached.”

Sam offers her a sad little smile. “You’re loyal to Maria Hill and Maria Hill only. I think, out of the two of you, you’ll be the first to cut your losses.”

She chews on this for a moment, then lays her palms flat on the table. “You’re wrong.”

“Okay,” Sam says, but she’s pretty sure he doesn’t believe her.

 

**2\. Brothers in Arms**

It takes Barnes less time than Wilson to figure it out, and Barnes is still more than a little traumatized and has a bad habit of going off the rails. They’re working on it, it’s all baby steps, but there are only a handful of people he can tolerate.

And just her luck, Maria is one of them.

(She doesn’t mind, not really. It’s a ridiculous show of trust from both Barnes and Steve that she and Barnes are ever alone together in the first place.)

It also means that he has no filter with her, absolutely none. She’s heard horror stories out of his mouth mid-memory that make what Natasha’s done in her life look like finger painting. He’s given her nightmares she and Steve will never, _ever_ tell him about. And he bowls right over any and all personal boundaries.

“You’re sleeping with Steve.”

“Yes.” Because it’s an easy answer and also because she’d promised herself a long time ago Barnes is the only person in the world she will not lie to. It’s not out of a sense of self-preservation, it’s out of the understanding that he’s had enough of that in his life. She’ll tell him she can’t answer a question, that he doesn’t want the answer, but she will never lie to him.

“You’re just sleeping with Steve. What does Wilson call it?”

Maria’s mouth twitches. “Friends with benefits. And no, we’re not that.”

His eyes are curious as he looks her way. “Didn’t take you for the serious relationship type.”

Maria glances back down at the tablet utterly embarrassed to feel the way her cheeks go just a little bit pink. It’s the curiosity that saves him the punch in the face – she does make a mental note to hunt down who is spreading that around like common knowledge – and she shakes her head a little.

“He kind of just bowls you over.”

Barnes motions for her to continue.

She laughs a little. “You know. You start with one intention and then he gets involved and-“

“Suddenly you’re part of the Howling Commandoes, following the idiot that couldn’t keep himself out of a fight into the worst battles of the Second World War.”

“Exactly.”

There’s a pause, then: “You love him.”

“Yes.” It’s choked, but there, the affirmation Barnes is looking for and the only person likely to verbally get it.

 “You hurt him and they won’t find you.”

Maria merely raises her head. “I would expect nothing less.”

It takes a beat, but a moment later, Barnes grins.

She takes that as approval.

 

**3\. Work Wife**

“I hear congratulations are in order.”

Maria doesn’t even stumble mid-sparring session, blocking Nat’s high kick with barely a blink. “For what?”

Natasha backs off, regroups. “Steve’s never struck me as the friends with benefits type.”

The only outward evidence Maria gives of that being anymore than a statement is the eyebrow she lifts. Natasha knows her well enough to offer a smirk in response.

“I just want to know how you did it,” the spy goes on, bouncing on her toes for a moment before attacking again. Maria parries, blocks, brings a leg up to get her foot into Natasha’s kidney. The Black Widow catches Maria’s ankle easily, brings it down half an inch. Maria accepts the correction with a nod and the two women head back to their corners.

“It would have been your idea,” Natasha says, taking their momentary break to guzzle from a water bottle. “Steve still blushes when we mention sex on family nights.”

Maria snorts. “He isn’t blushing when he’s doing it.”

Natasha grins like the cat that ate the canary. Maria winces.

“Tony will be so upset his virginity theory has been debunked.”

Maria laughs, but doesn’t say a thing more. Natasha had manipulated the little tidbit out of her, sure, but she’s not generally one to kiss and tell. Especially not when it comes to Steve.

“Regardless, I’m impressed. It doesn’t seem to affect either of you in the field.”

Maria just rolls her eyes, gives her a look. Natasha knows better than to think either she or Steve wouldn’t put the job first. They’re soldiers, after all.

Slowly though, the smirk slides off of Natasha’s face. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

Maria stills. There’s an underlying seriousness to the Widow’s tone that makes Maria strangely nervous. It’s the closest Maria has ever come to a vulnerable Natasha.

“You’re not blind,” she goes on quietly. “He’s invested.”

Maria’s breath catches like it always does when someone points it out. She knows, of course, because she has two perfectly functioning eyes, thanks, but it still takes her off-guard. She’s not convinced that’ll ever change and it’s both thrilling and terrifying.

“If you’re not,” Natasha goes on carefully. “If this is a game or a conquest and it breaks up the team…” Her eyes are hard when they meet Maria’s. “I’m not yours anymore.”

Maria snorts to hide the sting, the frustration that bubbles up because what the hell? “Romanoff, you never were.”

 

**+1. The Man in Question**

Maria can work an entire day without a blink. She can go fourteen, sixteen hours in the office, come home, collapse in bed and start again, but the minute anything personal is added into her day, fourteen hours becomes twelve and she feels like she needs a damn vacation.

Thankfully, Steve’s in her suite when she steps in, pulling potatoes out of the oven. “You’re home.”

She waits for him to put them down, to tug off the oven mitts, only listening with half an ear as he natters on about dinner and the afternoon and ‘new potato recipe, and since I know you love potatoes’.

She makes him trail off half way through that sentence when she walks up and wraps her arms around him. He lets out a noise of distress, arms coming around her easily, automatically. “Maria, sweetheart?”

“Your friends suck.”

He snorts. “Which ones?”

“All of them.”

He hums. “You get the Spanish Inquisition?”

She looks up, rests her chin on his chest. “You?”

“Buck came by. Mentioned the two of you talked.”

She nods and silence falls as he presses a kiss to her forehead, slides down her nose, across her eyelids, over her cheekbones. “Steve. You know I-“

“Hey. Not because of them.”

Her sigh is heavy and relieved. It’s not that she doesn’t want to tell him, not that she doesn’t have the words they’re just… difficult. And there’s something so much better about the way he’s looking at her now, without a doubt as to how she feels, how he feels, all of it wrapped up in the arm across her back, the hand that rubs absently at her bicep.

“Look, I’ll talk to them. They shouldn’t-“

She kisses him. “Let them talk. I don’t care.”

“You obviously do. I-“

“Believe me, right? Trust me?”

“Adore you.”

She snorts, and will vehemently deny the blush that heats her cheeks, just a little. Steve throws around compliments like they’re water, she should be used to it by now. She’s not.

“So,” he kisses her forehead with a loud smack, squeezes her once. “Dinner?”

“And _Hell’s Kitchen_?”

He shakes his head. “I should have never introduced you to that show. I feel like I should be nervous you’re going to run away with Gordon Ramsay. That restaurant is in New York, you know.”

She’s grinning as she trails him back to the kitchen, finds herself reaching out to tug on his t-shirt. He glances over his shoulder, turns back when she tugs again and lets her pull him down for a thorough kiss.

“I do, you know,” she says against his mouth.

His eyes go so, so soft, and she feels both her heart and her stomach turn over. “I love you, too.”


End file.
